


Countdown

by anon-j-anon (Anon)



Series: This is what I see [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon/pseuds/anon-j-anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We have no time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

Transmission ended. 

We have no _time_.  The captain is already making his way through their engine room to the bridge.

If Khan--

 _When_ Khan. 

“Lieutenant.  I need you to assemble all senior medical and engineering staff in the weapons bay.”

Those who remain alive.

“Dr. McCoy, you inadvertently activated a torpedo, could you replicate the process?”

Leonard, we have no time.  Cease your objections.

“The fact that you are a doctor is precisely why I need you to listen very carefully.”

It would be simpler without removing the cryotubes, but it is morally reprehensible.  We have no time.

“Assemble the staff in pairs, one engineer and one doctor.  Demonstrate the method to activate the sequence.  Each doctor will remove the cryotube, each engineer will arm the torpedo for ninety second countdown.  The engineers must activate the countdown for all seventy-two torpedoes simultaneously.  When you are finished, send a comm message to Lt. Sulu.  You will have less than five minutes to complete your task.  Do not question my command, Doctor.  Go.”

He goes, swiftly, without question.

“Lieutenant, how many personnel assembled?”

“Thirteen, sir.”

Seventy-two, six teams of two with Leonard makes seven, ten point three torpedoes per team, assume thirty seconds per torpedo gives three hundred eight point six seconds, approximately five minutes and ten seconds.

We have no time.

Two minutes pass.  The captain is on their bridge.

“Lt. Uhura, how many torpedoes have been completed?”

“Twenty nine, sir, and counting.”

Too slow.  Even at twenty eight point nine seconds per torpedo per team, it is too slow.

I count compulsively.

Three minutes.

“Forty one and counting, sir.”

The captain’s signal disappears at three oh three.

“Where is the captain, Mr. Sulu.”

“Our sensor array is down, sir, I can’t find him.”

Not our sensor array.  His sensor.

It has begun.  We have no time.

I need two more minutes.

Two more minutes, and we have a chance.

Transmission on screen.

“I’m going to make this very simple for you.”

Jim--

“Captain.”

“Your crew, for my crew.”

 _Khan_.

Three minutes, thirteen seconds.

I am not Jim.  I cannot bluff.

Words are time.

Words are time.  State the obvious.

“You betrayed us.”

“Oh you are _smart_ Mr. Spock.”

State the obvious.  If he keeps speaking, he gives us time.

Measured tones.  Slower words.  Three seventeen.

“Spock, don’t--!”

Jim collapses.

Measured tones.  Slower words.

“What will you do when you get them.”

Every phrase is a second, every word gives a chance.  Khan is saying something.

Count the words.  Three twenty two. 

“Which as I understand it is the mass genocide of any being you find to be less than superior.”

It would have been easier to arm the torpedoes.  Count the seconds.

“Shall I destroy you, Mr. Spock, or will you give me what I want?”

Destroying the lives was reprehensible.

Delay.  Three thirty two.

Words are time.  State the obvious.

Do not blink.

“We have no transporter capability.”

I have nothing but stating the obvious.  Khan’s words pass through one ear and out the other.

My mind is on time.  My eyes look at the screen.  My heart is pounding.  Jim is not visible.

Three forty.

“If I do so I have no guarantee that you will not destroy the _Enterprise_.”

Measured tones.  Steady cadence.

He will destroy the _Enterprise_.  Ninety seconds may be too long, with the _Vengeance_ ’s weapons fully functional.  It is a gamble.

I do not hear what he is saying.  I can only hear in each word the seconds.

Three fifty five and with it, projected fifty seven torpedoes emptied of cryotubes, ready for countdown.

Slowly.

“If you destroy our ship, you will also destroy your own people.”

I do not know why I am playing this game to delay.  Not when this man is clearly bent on destroying us utterly.

I have never bought our conscience with words.

Nor heard a bargain for the captain’s life sealed with such steady, hateful tones.

Four minutes, twelve seconds.

“Now.”

Four seventeen.

“Shall we begin.”

Four twenty one.

Begin.

Begin.

I have nothing left.

No time, no words.

Four twenty six.

I could only buy one minute, twenty three seconds.

There are no miracles.

Silence.

Then.

The console behind me beeps and I know how to act.

I _know_ how to act. 

 _Khan_. 

I begin again.

Countdown.

Ninety seconds.

“Lower shields.”

Sulu complies immediately.

Look at him.  Something shifts within me.

“A wise choice Mr. Spock.”

Eighty three seconds.

“If they are not mine, Commander, I _will_ know it.”

Sixty eight seconds. 

The margin is too close.  Narrow the gap.  Slow, clear, _honest_ words.  One second per word.

“Vulcans do not lie.”

Sixty four.

“The torpedoes are yours.”

They _are_ yours, Khan.  Of your build, of your brain.

Beamed on board the _Vengeance_ at sixty seconds.

“Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

The only thing left inside me is time.

“I have fulfilled your terms.  Now fulfill mine.”

Forty five seconds.

“Well, Kirk.  Seems apt to return you to your crew.  After all--”

Thirty nine seconds. 

“No ship should go down without her captain.”

Thirty two seconds.

“He’s locked phasers on us, sir.”

Jim has been beamed on board,

“Shields, Lt. Sulu.”

We are hit at nineteen seconds.

“The torpedoes.  How much time, Lieutenant.”

“Twelve seconds, sir!”

“Crew of the _Enterprise_ , prepare for imminent proximity detonations.”

Four seconds, by my count.

Three.

Two.

I am tired of counting.

They detonate.

They rip through his ship.

Relief.

I do not regret keeping the bodies.

“Sir, their weapons have been knocked out.  Not bad, Commander.”

Sulu smiles.  It is bloodless, effective destruction.

Conscience clean.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Relief.

The possibility of inhaling and allowing words to be more than seconds.

It is sincere thanks.

Then--

Then.

We begin to fall.

It begins again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I watched this section online compulsively over and over with a stopwatch (the times are still a little fudged). Because Spock says some remarkably obvious things in the conversation with Khan. And having seventy two cryotubes removed in four minutes-- got to be stressful.


End file.
